


Never Tear Us Apart

by frantic65



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-03
Updated: 2010-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frantic65/pseuds/frantic65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-513. As Brian and Justin adapt to one change, more are on the horizon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Tear Us Apart

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[brian/justin](http://delvalmom.livejournal.com/tag/brian/justin), [never tear us apart](http://delvalmom.livejournal.com/tag/never%20tear%20us%20apart)  
  
---|---  
  
**Title:** Never Tear Us Apart  
**Pairing:** Brian/Justin  
**Word Count:** about 3,100  
**Rating:** NC-17 for m/m loving  
**Summary:** post-513. As Brian and Justin adapt to one change, more are on the horizon.

 

  
_Don't ask me what you know is true. Don't have to tell you I love your precious heart.  
\--Never Tear Us Apart—INXS_

It was a common misconception that when Justin left the Pitts behind for the bright lights of the big city, I was doing the honorable thing and giving the lad the opportunity to spread his wings and concentrate on becoming, "The Toast of the New York City Art World." My sacrifice would be great, but it was the best thing for Justin, and everyone knew I could never be monogamous, or maintain a long distance non-defined non-relationship, and blah-blah-fucking-blah.

The only sacrifice I was going to have to make were my eyes, when I gouged them out if I had to listen to one more well-meaning friend tell me how noble and mature I was being to give Sunshine his freedom after realizing how much I had held him back for the past five years.

Bullshit!

Justin and I would never have what pathetic breeder's and delusional fags considered a normal relationship, but rather we were a work in progress, quite fitting for an up-and-coming artist and a fabulously successful entrepreneur. We were closing in on a perfect understanding that would only work for the two of us, a pair of committed albeit twisted individuals with limited interest in living the traditional American Dream.

So, while Michael had apparently been chosen to keep a suicide watch over me the first months after Justin departed for NYC, the reality was that Justin and I had smoking hot phone sex several times a week, trumped only by the kinkiest daily webcam sessions once his internet was connected.

Mikey's head would have exploded if he had known what little Sunshine could do with a string of anal beads and some nipple clamps. The reports of our non-relationship's demise were greatly exaggerated and that's just the way we wanted it. Call me Dr. Spin indeed.

"Brian, you look tired." Michael cast a worried glance at me from across the pool table at Woody's. We met at least once a week there so Michael could monitor my state of mind and report back to the others on the odds of my pulling through another week without Justin. "Are you okay? Have you been sleeping?"

"Mikey, shut the fuck up and take your shot." God knows I love Michael and always will, but his incessant mothering was beginning to get on my last fucking nerve.

"Jesus, Brian!" he grumbled as he scratched another shot, "Don't bite my fucking head off! I can't wait for Babylon to reopen so you can get back to business as usual in the backroom."

I drained the rest of my beer and lined up my next shot, hoping my death grip on the cue stick wouldn't break the fucking thing in two. "Michael." I spoke quietly and deliberately, praying in vain for the patience I knew I didn't possess on a good day.

"I mean, when is the last time you tricked anyway?" Michael blathered on apparently unaware and unconcerned that he was treading on dangerously thin ice.

"Michael!" I admit it, I barked at him this time, but I really needed to get his fucking attention before I sent him home to his husband with a cue stick shoved up his ass.

"What! What is it?" Equal parts of confusion and hurt flashed across his face and I pushed my hands through my hair in frustration.

"What makes you think I have any intention of returning to my wicked ways after Babylon is back in the picture?" I did my best to keep my tone calm, not wanting to give Michael any reason to stage some sort of crisis intervention on my behalf.

I must have succeeded because his face softened and he crossed over next to me and wrapped his arms around my neck. "Come on, the great Brian Kinney swearing off fucking anonymous ass? Isn't that one of the signs of the Apocalypse?"

I kissed him on the forehead and rested my arms on his shoulders lightly. "I didn't say I was taking a vow of abstinence Mikey, and even though it's really not any of your fucking business, I find that my…" I paused and smirked fondly at him, "…carnal needs have undergone some changes in recent months."

"Like since a certain blond Boy Wonder left Kansas to go make a name for himself in the Emerald City?" He pulled back from me to examine my face, looking no doubt for telltale signs of my deep depression.

I rolled my lips inward and rested my hand briefly on the side of his neck. "Why Dorothy, aren't you a clever girl?" I turned away from him and picked up my cue stick again, it was getting late and I was expecting a very special sex-o-gram from my favorite emerging new artist tonight. "Now, grab your stick and shoot. I'm sure Toto and the Tin Man are expecting you to click your heels and pop on home soon."

"Fuck you Brian!" he rebuked me gently, "He's going to come back to you someday you know, but that doesn't mean you have to stop living until he does." He took his shot and promptly sank the eight ball, thus ending this week's episode of "Saving Brian Kinney".

As I drove home, I thought over what Michael had said. Although I hadn't enlightened him and had no plans to do so in the near future, he had inadvertently been right on the money in asking me about my recent tricking track record. The truth was I hadn't had another mouth on my dick or fucked another ass since the last night that Justin and I were together before he left for the city.

What the fuck did that mean? Was I saving myself for him, like a fucking virtual vestal virgin, only removing my chastity belt for late night webcam sex? The idea was ludicrous and I was a fucking pathetic pussy for even entertaining the thought, but what did that say about the person I had become? This was about more than being monogamous or committed to one person; this was a shift in my entire view of the world, queer and straight. I had just admitted to myself that I wasn't interested in actively pursuing Pittsburgh's most fabulous fags anymore just to prove that I could nail any piece of hot gay ass… anywhere…anytime.

I pulled into my parking spot and turned off the ignition. I was reluctant to get out of the car until I was sure my little epiphany wasn't going to send me heading back into the night on an alcohol and drug fueled rampage I wouldn't remember in the morning.

In the not so distant past, a conversation like the one Michael and I had just had in Woody's would have pushed me into a night filled with any number of debauched and depraved activities…all in the name of proving once again that the only thing I believed in was fucking, and that love was a load of bullshit concocted by pathetic breeder's trying to get laid.

Nope, not even a twitch. I felt like a recovered alcoholic who has been locked in a bar for days but opts for water over whiskey despite the temptation staring them right in the fucking face. I suddenly needed to see Justin, naked and spread out before me, even if it was via the fucking internet.

I threw my jacket off as I entered the loft, and headed straight for my computer, so anxious to connect with him my fingers fumbled all over the keyboard, until on the third try I finally managed to type in the correct login information to initiate the webcam session.

I was looking at Justin's shithole of an apartment but the artist-in-residence was nowhere to be seen at the moment. The fact that he was logged in meant he should be home, but considering his place wasn't much bigger than a closet and the camera picked up most of it, I figured if he was there he must be in the bathroom.

I wandered over to the bar to grab my Beam and lit up a cigarette to pass the time until Justin made his appearance, chalking my sudden sense of disquiet up to the questionable chicken wings Michael had insisted we share at Woody's. He had used the word skinny to describe me, which he knew always pissed me off, but he was the queer son of a pushy Italian woman and a drag queen, so I occasionally gave in to his pressure and ate something disgusting and unhealthy just to make him happy. I smiled grimly as I planned on how best to take my revenge on him the next time we went out.

"Brian?" I sauntered back over to the computer as I heard Justin's voice, and took my seat in front of the screen.

"Hey." I greeted him, mumbling around the cigarette in my mouth as I found a spot to place my Beam. I studied his face quickly and felt my stress level spike at the strained smile he was flashing at me. Something was wrong and if he was in the loft with me right now, I'd be looking around for his fucking duffle bag, expecting to find it packed and ready to go. Sunshine had been doing some serious thinking and I felt my leg start to jump as I wondered what conclusions he had come to this round.

"Hey." He answered me quietly, eyes not quite meeting mine. "Have a good time with Michael?"

"Fucking wonderful, as usual. I was the hottest guy there and every loser in the place wanted to suck my dick. " I didn't have the patience for this polite conversation bullshit. "What about you? How was your day, dear?"

"Umm…it was interesting." He was hedging and fuck if I was going to sit here and play twenty questions with him all night.

"Interesting as in there's a gallery that wants to give you your own show, or interesting as in you had lunch with the homeless in Central Park and decided to join their ranks?" I flashed him a mocking smile and considered rolling a joint or ten. We weren't five minutes into the conversation and I was already on the verge of saying something unforgiveable to avoid reacting like the pathetic lovesick faggot I had become where he was concerned.

He narrowed his eyes and I fidgeted a little as I saw a familiar gleam appear. He'd obviously searched the Brian Kinney Operating Manual he kept in his brain, and found the chapter he was looking for…I was fucked for sure and not in a positive, life-affirming way.

"Interesting as in I had an unexpected phone call today from Brett Keller." I kept my face blank as he watched me carefully. "Apparently, he's continued to shop the Rage Project around to the various studios and other possible interested parties, and he's pretty sure he's found a small independent co-operative of actors and animators that have given him a provisional green light on taking the project to the next level." He paused to catch his breath, and I took the opportunity to pour another Beam and light another cigarette.

"Contingent on what?" I managed to ask, using my best client fact-finding voice even though I knew the answer already; Hollywood was calling again and Justin's inclusion in this project was vital to making "Rage: The Movie" a reality.

His eyes darted away nervously and I knew I was right, and that he had to make the only decision that made sense for him both professionally and personally. His anxiety annoyed the fuck out of me though, so we needed to wrap this conversation up quickly and move on to something else before bad habits took hold, and I started looking for a nearby cliff.

"Justin." I spoke his name quietly and his glance shot back to mine.

"Brian, I can't go."

"Why the fuck not?"

"It's not the right time."

"Why? Do you have a show in the works you forgot to tell me about?"

"No…but I left y--…Pittsburgh to break into the New York City art scene…not to fly out to L.A. and be at Brett's beck and call."

"There are worse things in life than being Brett Keller's beck and call boy."

"Brian, I'm not going and that's final."

"Justin, stop being such a princess and actually use that above average IQ you're so fond of reminding me about. What better way to get your name out there, than by keeping whatever creative hold you can on your own creation? You said this independent company is made up of actors and animators, that sounds to me like they'll need your vision even more if they're thinking of merging live action with CGI in order to bring Rage to life." Yes, I was using my ad man powers of persuasion here, but unless they were expecting him to donate his time, there really was no down side to his finding out what exactly this opportunity held for him. Being squeamish about moving further away from m--, the Pitts, was not an acceptable reason to turn Brett down.

"Brian—"

"Besides, you know I'll wait for you." I meant it, but the lesbianic undertone caused me to smirk even as I went for sincerity.

Justin worried his lower lip and fell silent at that last declaration. I felt a small gleam of satisfaction that I had managed to shut him up…even for a moment…not an easy feat where Sunshine was concerned. He looked up at me with suspiciously bright eyes, and I had to force myself not to reach out to touch his image on my monitor screen.

He sniffed once, and swept his hands rapidly across his face before gracing me with a mega-watt Sunshine smile. "I love you, you fucking asshole."

I offered a genuine smile right back at him and laughed a little at his choice of endearments. "Why Mr. Taylor, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Sometimes." He smirked, and then leveled a heated glance at me that went directly to my cock. "But there are many other things I prefer to do with my mouth when I'm with you." Then he licked his lips and our worlds collided just as they had from the first time I saw him outside of Babylon so very long ago.

He moved back on his bed so I had an unobstructed view of his hot body, and moaned softly as he reached down into his sweatpants to cup his balls and stroke his already hard cock. He used his other hand to ease the pants down over his ass, smiling at me wickedly as he exposed his truly impressive package to my lust-filled stare.

Never taking his eyes from my face, he kicked off his pants, and raised his hand to his mouth, sucking two fingers inside making sure they were totally dripping with his spit when he pulled them free with a pop.

"If I was there, I would be sucking you off right now, Brian, and right before you came, I'd take these two fingers and stick them in your ass to make you shoot…but since you're not here, I'm gonna pretend these are your fingers instead, and use them to open up my ass instead, just like you do before you fuck me hard enough to make me scream…just the way we like it."

Did I mention that the twat can have me on the verge of coming in these webcam sessions just from watching him writhe around on his own fingers like now? My hand has been steadily working my own dick from the moment he poked his tongue out of his mouth, and as he fucks himself on his fingers, I feel my eyes start to roll back in my head and a loud groan escapes my mouth and fills my loft as he steadily jacks himself off.

"Deeper." I whisper to him, as he raises his hips to give me a better view. "Faster." I moan as I pick up speed of my own. "Can you feel me Justin? My naked cock is filling your tight, hot hole, and soon I'll come inside you, and you'll feel it dripping out next to my tongue as I eat your ass clean."

I hear him shout and I know he is shooting as I struggle to open my eyes to watch the beauty that is Justin in the throes of an orgasm. I can only watch for a few seconds before my own climax grabs me, and I hear him whisper my name as he watches me from his side of the camera.

"Beautiful." I hear him moan, and I raise my hand to my mouth to suck off my spunk, knowing we are both equally nasty when it comes to this. I watch his fingers absently swirling in the come pooled on his stomach, and my mouth actually waters at the thought of licking it up and pushing it into his mouth with my tongue. Kissing him is one of the things I miss the most.

We both stare at each other across the miles as our breathing slows into a more normal range, and I know the exact second that he starts to miss me again and consequently worry about the L.A. situation.

"You know you have to go." I tell him after a moment, and I see the resigned expression cross his face as he realizes that as usual, I am right. "It is only time, Justin…and the distance means nothing."

"And you promise not to throw me off a cliff, or do any other fucked up shit because you think it's best for me?" He throws me a fierce look, and fuck if it's not one of the hottest things I've ever seen him do.

I'm amazed that at this point he doesn't realize that I would promise him anything as long as it made him happy, so I make him sweat it out for a few minutes before I offer him what he needs.

"I promise." I say it and mean it, and for the second time that night, I wonder what happened to the Brian Kinney who would have used a situation like this one to immediately descend into a haze of sex and drugs and alcohol.

Then I look at Justin's face, so hopeful that I am finally beyond that point in my life, and I get it. I'm still the same person, and I'm still going to fuck up, but then so will he. There will be times that we'll be together and times when geography will get in the way.

I have learned this much though; as long as we're willing to try, then even when life changes, it will never tear us apart.


End file.
